


perfect fit

by Lee_Mix



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5478521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes wearing your heart on your sleeve isn’t the best thing. It’s a good thing Marinette is a designer–trim out the excess, and display it proud for everyone to see. - Aka: Marinette’s crush on Adrien is revealed to the entire class, and Chat Noir is surprisingly good at giving love advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	perfect fit

His father had a surprisingly good taste in fashion. 

It wasn’t often he found himself praising the man for anything other than his _potential_ merits of fatherhood–not long after his mother had been erased from his life, he had discovered everything with his father turned into a waiting game, _waiting_ for that love and approval to come, and it was kind of hard to play a game when the umpire ignored your every move, bad or good–but Adrien had to admit that, despite his flaws, he had come through on the day of his fifteenth birthday.

“Dude, you really do love that scarf.” Nino nudged his ribs playfully, looking down from the bridge of his glasses. “Did your find out if your old man made it himself?”

“Beats me.” Adrien shrugged, drawing the blue scarf closer to his mouth. “But he doesn’t exactly  _like_ it when I talk about… well, emotionalsubjects, so I’m just going to appreciate it for what it is.”

Nino sighed. “Your choice, dude.” 

With that, Nino went back to flicking through his library of tunes, and Adrien leaned back on his chair, admiring the handiwork of the scarf. 

It certainly  _looked_ handmade. His years as a model had made his eye rather perceptive (or maybe it was just the  _cat's_ eye in him), and the seamless stitching could almost be mistaken for designer-quality, if not for the minute mistakes at the hem. Common mistakes, especially with a needle, but otherwise undetectable. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine his father dedicating that much time for something for him.

(If he was honest, he still couldn’t. Something in his tell-tale heart grieved and cried out, “ _it’s all a lie, your father never even comments on it”,_ but his heart is already scarred enough from the deceit, so he’ll take the false comforts anyway)

“Bad night again, Mari?”

Adrien blinked, and turned his head slightly. Behind him, Marinette had flopped her head face-down on the desk, groaning something of a response, which had become a common sight over the past few weeks. The poor girl would walk in barely on time, bags under her eyes, and drag herself through the day.

“You  _really_ need to sort out your schedule, girl.” Alya had taken to patting her friend’s back. “Was it homework again?”

Marinette gave pause. “…Something like that.”

“You ought to try a cup of chamomile tea before you sleep.” Adrien’s sudden input made both girls jump a little, and his inner-Chat rejoiced. 

“I-I…wh-what?”

_And there are the usual stutters. Oh, how I have missed you._

Adrien felt himself smile in spite of himself, tugging the scarf closer to his chin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt into your conversation, but I’ve noticed you’ve been really tired the past few weeks.” 

“Oh, have younow?” Alya leaned forward, a strange smirk playing on her lips. 

“She  _does_ sit behind me.” Adrien shrugged, as Marinette’s eyes dashed between himself and Alya.  _Odd._ “Anyway, I just wanted to suggest that. I used to have it a few years ago when I couldn’t sleep, and it worked a treat.”

“I-I’ll try it!” Marinette squeaked, before hiding behind her hands. “Th-Thanks…”

Honestly, he felt for Marinette’s shyness. He wasn’t sure  _why_ exactly she couldn’t hold a conversation with him without her usual stumbles in speech–as Chat Noir, she had been confident– _cocky,_ even–and from what he had seen, she had integrated herself well with the rest of the student body. Adrien simply put it down to his family name intimidating her, and left it at that.

Adrien gave her another smile, before turning back to look at the book on his desk…

…only for his vision to be obscured by a familiar figure.

“Oh,  _Adrien~!”_

Inwardly, he grimaced at the voice but did his best to appear neutral as he looked up. “Hey, Chloe.”

“Is that  _all_ I get? It’s been  _ages_ since I’ve seen you, sweetie.” Chloe swirled around on the desk to wrap her arms around him, and he groaned at the lack of personal space. 

Adrien tried his best to put an arm on her shoulder and gently push away. “Chloe–it’s been–for crying out loud Chloe, it’s only been  _one_ weekend.” After a brief struggle, Adrien reluctantly relented, and Chloe only nuzzled up to him more. 

Even with the discomfort, it would be better than making her  _cry._

And, in typical Chloe-fashion, she began a tirade of conversation that, if he was honest, he didn’t really  _care_ for. Something about “dinner parties” and her utter insistence that he was the only one would could “match up to her image”, and thus he  _had_ to attend as her date. 

Honestly, he had begun to drown it out so much that any other background chatter had been ignored, and he failed to hear Marinette and Alya’s background conversation.

Chloe, however, had not. “What was that?”

He blinked back into reality, before using the opportunity of Chloe being side-tracked to pull away from her. He glanced back to where Chloe had begun to glare daggers into, and found a rather sheepish-looking Marinette (and an equally furious Alya), staring back at her.

“Come on,” Chloe folded her arms. “I know you said something about me. Care to share, floozy?”

Marinette’s fists began to tremble and grow white. “You’re making him uncomfortable.”

“Oh, this is precious _._  You’re  _jealous._ ”

 _Jealous?_ Adrien thought, watching the scene unfold.

Marinette’s blush extended over her face but shook her head in defiance. “No, I’m  _not._ But you… you’re always treating him like he’s some sort of possession, and you–you’re always getting in his face, and flirting, and he’s clearlyuncomfortable, and you don’t care.”

Adrien’s eyes widened.  _Everyone always assumes I’m fine with Chloe’s… affection. She’s… a lot more perceptive than I gave her credit for._

Chloe, however, merely found amusement in the whole ordeal. “Please _,_ Marinette. Adrien and I have been friends for years. And, really?  _I’m_ the one with the idea that he’s a possession? At least I don’t have some weird stalker-crush on him.”

All of a sudden, Adrien was aware of how many people in the classroom the conversation had attracted. Marinette began to go pale, and her mouth gaped a little. 

“N-No, I…” She faltered. 

“See? The whole “ _shy girl”_ is just an act.” Chloe stalked over and put a hand on her desk. “Don’t you know how  _creepy_ you are, hiding behind trees and walls all the time? Maybe it’s because you’re trying to get courage to actually talkto him, but it’s a bit weird, don’t you agree?”

“Chloe, that’s enough _._ ” Alya stood up so fast her chair almost toppled over. “Leave her alone. Why do you have to be such a bully _?”_

It only took one glance for the tiger in Alya to melt into her maternal instincts. “Mari…”

Tears had welled up in Marinette’s eyes, and without warning, she shoved away from Alya’s warmth and dashed out of the classroom.

“Marinette, wait–!” Adrien had reached a hand out to stop her, but the girl was surprisingly fast, and all the classroom was left with was a gaping hole of guilt. 

“Good riddance to her. She was just crowding up the air in here anyway.” Chloe sighed, perching on the edge of her desk. “Now, what were we talking about?”

As she reached over to touch his shoulder, Adrien found himself slapping it away. 

“Adrien…?”

“That was low, Chloe, even for you.” He said, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “It’s one thing not to listen to mewhen I feel uncomfortable with your affection, but it’s another to be an utter  _bitch_ to someone who was just trying to stand up for me. Who the hell do you think you are _?”_

For a moment, everyone’s emotions were printed in the air for him to read. From Nino’s pleased smirk to Alya’s faint distress for her friend, and everyone else gladthat Chloe was getting words that stung. 

Speaking of, he barely felt any pity for the girl as her lip trembled. “She… She’s the one who…!”

“Who was too shyto approach someone who she had a crush on. News flash, Chloe,” he leaned in closer and snapped his fingers. “That’s perfectly normal _._  You’re treatment of people, on the other hand? Why you feel like you need to hurtpeople and get enjoyment in it? That’s  _sick._ ”

Adrien never thought he would see the day. 

Chloe was  _speechless._

“Now, if you’ll excuseme, I’m off to try and find the girl  _you_ made run off in tears.” He gestured to the rest of the classroom. “Anyone coming with me?”

The echoes of “yes” were unmistakable, Alya and Nino’s being the loudest of all.

One by one, they all left the classroom, until it was just Chloe standing there, in the same place as before. Even Sabrina had left her side, though hesitantly.

_Seems like going too far left you unable to move. Hopefully, it gives you time to think._

 

* * *

 

The chorus that sang her name through the halls had been joined by several younger choirs, until half of the  _school_ was looking for her, including members of the faculty.

“Marinette? Are you here?” He whispered, checking every available space in the art room.

“Doesn’t look like she’s in here, dude.” Nino pulled up a stool and leaned his arms on it. “Is there anywhere else she would have gone, Alya?”

Alya sighed. “I’m not sure. She doescome here when she’s upset, sometimes, but this really did a number on her. Mari’s been awfully good at slipping away from under my nose lately.” She rubbed her arms and bowed her head. “I’ve never seen her this upset.”

“Neither have I.” Nino groaned. “Chloe really should have kept her trap shut.”

“At least Adrien delivered that epic blow to her, though.” She managed a half-hearted smile at him. “Thank you for that, by the way. Even if Marinette didn’t hear that… I think it would have made her happy.”

“Hopefully, I’ll get to tell her that myself.” Adrien jumped down from the chair he was stood on. “Is there anywhere else she could have gone?”

His shoulders slumped when Alya shook her head.

“She usually comes in here to finish off her work. Sewing is what makes her feel better. You should see some of the things she can make when she’s stressed.”

Adrien paused. “She sews by  _hand?”_

“Amazing, right?” The pride in her voice couldn’t have been more sincere if it was coming from Marinette’s  _parents._ “You saw the hat she made, right? All by hand. I don’t even think she has a sewing machine, and all her materials are second-hand, and she  _still_ creates all those brilliant accessories.” 

He was surprised when Alya suddenly scowled. “Who the hell  _does_ Chloe think she is, putting someone as amazing as Marinette down like that?” 

Theories wracked up in his brain, with memories of his birthday flooding in. “Do you have anything she sewed with you?”

He could feel Nino’s questioning look on his back, as Alya rummaged through her bag for a few moments, before procuring a small pair of red, woolen mittens. “Here, see?” She grinned. “Completely hand-made.”

The sense of urgency seemed to come full-force as he grabbed the mittens, inspecting the stitching as if it were a clue to a murder mystery. 

It was  _all_ there. The familiar stitching, the small, minute mistakes…

 _That was why she was so nervous on my birthday._ He realized.  _She’s the one who sewed this for me… not my father. But there’s no way she’ll talk to me right now…_

Like lightning, an idea cracked through the very core of his mind, and suddenly, he was off on his feet.

He was pretty sure Nino and Alya had called out for him, but he was too far down the hallway and in his thoughts to allow himself to notice.

“Plagg, I’m going to need your help on this…”

 

* * *

 

“I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m so  _dead…”_

Marinette hadn’t bothered to wake her sleeping kwami. Hugging her knees on the corner of the school roof, her tears of embarrassment had long since burned their unforgiving trails on her cheeks, and she was merely left in her hollow state of  _what ifs._

How could she  _possibly_ face him now?

“Well, well. Have I stumbled across a distressed Princess in a tower, or do I see a mere illusion? Does this mean it is  _I_ who will have to be her knight in shining spandex?”

Marinette gasped, blood flushing to her cheeks as she broke from her hold. Upon seeing the familiar masked hero, she frowned and wiped underneath her eyes.

“…Hi.” Her voice croaked. “Can I help you with something?”

Chat Noir strolled down from his position and perched next to her. “I saw the tears of a pretty girl and had to investigate. Is something bothering you?”

“ _Please,”_ she begged, his flirtation grinding her gears. “I’m not in the mood. Not now, not  _now._ ”

She heard him sigh but make no effort to leave. Instead, he placed a small hand on her shoulder. “Apologies,” he whispered, and for some reason, she believed him. “I was trying to lighten the mood. Apparently, I don’t do that very well.”

Marinette sniffed and shook her head. “No, it…” She sighed, and patted his hand. “No, it’s not your fault. You don’t need to say sorry. I’m just… surprised. Why are you bothering with me? Don’t you have more…” She gestured vaguely to the city. “More heroic things to do than talk to a crying girl?”

“The citizens of Paris  _are_ part of who I protect.” He batted his chest. “That includes a  _very_ brave girl, who without, I wouldn’t have been able to defeat one particular victim.”

That earned him a small smile. “I… I guess. Do you do this a lot?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “It depends on who I stumble across that needs a friendly ear. Or paw.”

“Does Ladybug do this sort of thing with you?”

Chat Noir waved a hand. “My Lady is a very busy bug! I wouldn’t want to burden her.” He ran a hand through his hair, and the theatrics faltered for a moment. “If you can keep a secret, Princess, I don’t even think she knows.” 

Marinette was still. “…I think she’d appreciate everything you did.”

“Well. Thank-you.” He cleared his throat. “But we are not here to discuss my  _paw_ blems, are we now?”

Another small laugh came from her lips from the terrible pun, until she curled up a little again. “…You really want to know?”

“If it helps.”

“It’s… pretty shallow. It might just waste your time.”

“But if it will make you feel better, then it is the time that I will trade again and again.”

Marinette sighed.  _It’s things like this that make my heart confused, kitty._

“There’s… a boy in my class.” She began, her voice stumbling over the sheer embarrassment. “I don’t think he really notices me all that often, but I’ve liked him for a long time. Thing is, I can’t talk to him. At all!” She waved her arms for emphasis. “I stumble over my words, a-and I just feel like my legs are made of jelly. It’s  _mortifying._ ”

“I do understand the feeling.” He cleared his throat. “Please, continue.”

She flushed a little. “I… well, there’s this girl who's friends with him. I think. They've known each other since they were little kids, but she… she makes him so _uncomfortable_. She’s always over him, trying to kiss  him without his permission, but nobody ever says anything about it because she’s rich and her father is the mayor. It sickens me, actually, that she can’t take no for an answer, but nobody ever  _does_ anything. Not even the teachers.”

“Sounds like quite the piece of work.”

“I  _know._  Even if I didn’t have feelings for him I’d be disgusted with how she treats him.” Her face fell, and she sighed again. “I… well, I tried to stand up for him today. But she… she called me a  _stalker_ right in front of him, and… and revealed that I had a crush on him to the entire student body.” 

She buried her head in her hands. “And I’m getting upset over it! I…I’ve faced worse, and I  _ran away!_ ”

When he rubbed her back, something in her wailing heart softened, and she peered up at him with tear-crusted eyes. He was smiling at her–a gentle, tender smile, with little judgement present.  

“You’re a very kind person, Marinette.” 

A flush covered her cheeks. “Y-You’re just saying that.”

“True, I did just say that, but I  _meant_ it. It sounds like this boy is very lucky to have you as a friend.”

“I… I don’t think he considers me one. He barely knows I exist.” A bitter chuckle escaped her lips. “Maybe this crush  _is_ shallow… when I think about it, it's nothing more than a schoolgirlcrush.”

“And that makes it any less special?” He retorted back. “Your feelings might not be built upon much, but that doesn’t mean they’re not important. The important thing is that you’re not  _ashamed_ of those feelings.”

Marinette sniffed. “I just wanted to tell him that on  _my_ terms, you know?”

“I do know.” 

She was expecting more from that sentence, but he left it in the dust of their conversation. Marinette wiped under her eyes again, before covering her mouth.

“What… do you think I should do?”

_Asking love advice from my partner-in-stopping-crime. Never thought I’d see the day, but… he’s actually pretty insightful on this._

“Be proud of your feelings. Show that they don’t make you feel down.”

Slowly, she looked up at him. “H-How should I do that?”

He grinned at her. “Show those who tried to hurt you with them that you’re not afraid. Besides, I think that girl’s plan failed.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Look.” He pointed.

She bit her lip, before taking a hesitant glance over the side of the building, and her eyes widened at the spectacle. Dozens of students and teachers were in the courtyard,  _calling_ her out name. Lots of them scattered over the entire place.

They were  _looking_ for her. 

“Seems like more people are on your side than against you, Marinette.”

“Y…yeah. They are, aren’t they?”

Chat Noir’s arm left her back, and he stood up to gaze at the horizon. “Well, Princess.” He turned his neck slightly to look at her, and she was surprised at the way her heart skipped a beat at the smile he was giving her. “I think the time has come where I should leave.”

"...Alright." Marinette reached over to gently clutch his hand. "Thank you. For talking with me, for... for everything.”

He squeezed it back a little, before slowly letting go of her hands, the warmth of his gloved fingertips lingering on her skin. “I wish you the best of luck, Marinette. Don’t be ashamed of anything, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

As he leapt from the rooftops and into the abyss that was Paris, Marinette managed to stumble to her feet. The blood rushes to areas that had once been at her cheeks, and she let out a shaky sigh. 

With no hesitation, she grabbed the handle of the rooftop doors and made her way down the staircase.

 

* * *

 

No sooner had she reached the door of the art room, had she locked eyes with the  _one_ person who had been the reason for her embarrassment. Marinette’s heart lodged in her throat as she gazed at Adrien.

His entire face was red, and his breath was laboured. Had he been  _running?_

“There you are!” He ran over to her, before almost keeling over. Hands on his knees, he struggled to catch his breath. “We thought we’d looked in here, but I thought I’d check again, and…” 

Marinette flushed as he looked up at her. “Are you alright, Marinette?”

 _Remember what Chat said. Don’t be ashamed. You can do this, you can do this…_ Marinette swallowed. “Y-Yeah. I’m… I’m okay, now.”

Adrien frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been crying.”

“Mm.” She wiped under her eyes. “I was pretty embarrassed.”

“Because of what Chloe said?”

“Sort of.” Marinette began to explain. “I… I mean, what she said  _is_ true, sort of. I mean, I do… I’ve liked you for a while now.” 

As soon as the words were breathed out into the air, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

“But it’s not just that!” She interjected, twiddling her thumbs. “I mean, I  _do_ like you, that’s true, but that’s not the only reason I’ve tried to talk to you! I’m pretty sure you don’t feel the same way–I don’t think we’ve ever really spoken much without me flailing, but I do want to be your friend! You’ve always been a little closed off, and I don’t always know how to approach you, but…?”

Gently, and seeking silent permission, she held his hand in hers. “Would that be… _okay?_ Can we be friends?”

Slack-jawed, Adrien merely stared at her. The seconds ticked by, making her hands grow clammy, but she wouldn’t let go.

“Y-Yeah.” He breathed, a smile coming to his face. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

Her heart raced. “You would?” 

He nodded, squeezing her hand, giving her body a wave of deja vu. “You’ve always been so shy around me, but I’ve always wanted to get to know you better. I mean, I don’t… really feel the same way about you, but you’re always so nice to people, and you’re always so creative with your ideas. I guess I didn’t know how to approach  _you,_ though.”

“So… all this time, we…?”

Adrien barely concealed a chuckle. “We’ve sure have wasted a lot of time, huh?”

And like that, the two teenagers burst out into laughter. How none of the students had walked by them yet was beyond her, but she barely cared for anything but the warmth of his hand and the beautiful laugh streaming from his lips. 

Her knees nearly  _buckled_ by the time she managed to calm herself down.

“I-I don’t even know why I laughed!” She grinned.

“Me either!”

Her cheeks began to ache at just how  _elated_ she felt. She didn’t even  _care_ if he didn’t feel the same way. Just being here with this wonderful boy was enough.

“We, uh.” She wheezed, a little out of breath. “We should get going back to class, right?” When she turned on her heel, she was surprised to feel Adrien pull her back slightly by her hand. “Adrien?”

“There’s one more thing I wanted to say.”

“O-Okay?”

“I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier, but… thank-you for the scarf.”

Another flush spread over her cheeks. “H-How did you find out?”

“Your stitchwork.” He unravelled the scarf around his neck. “I recognized it from Alya’s mittens. It’s pretty unique.”

She’d… not paid much attention to that, if she were honest. “O-Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

_Don’t be ashamed of your feelings. Don’t be ashamed. Be proud, and tell the truth._

Marinette gripped his hand a little tighter. “You were so happy when you thought the scarf was from your father.” She glanced to the side. “I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Something flashed in his eyes, and for a few, long moments, Adrien said absolutely nothing. She wasn’t sweating under his gaze, though. But watching as his brows creased up, and his mouth parted with the intent of saying something but having the words fail… it made her heart ache for him. Marinette wasn’t sure if she’d upset him or made him angry.

She had no time for guessing when he  _wrapped his arms around her._

“A-Adrien?”

“ _Thank you._ ” He whispered, holding her closer. “Thank you  _so_ much.”

 _For what?_ Played on the tip of her tongue, but held it back. Some things weren’t meant to be asked so casually. 

So she settled for hugging him back, and adding on a simple, “you’re welcome.”

After a few moments of being locked in each other’s warmth, Adrien was the first to pull away from the hug, though still remained close to her. 

“U-Um.” He laughed, a little nervously. “I… sorry, I didn’t mean to just hug you like that, I…”

“Adrien, it’s  _okay._ ” Marinette giggled, taking his hand again. (When had talking to him, being around him, become so easy in the span of a few minutes?) “You weren’t holding me tight enough so I couldn’t pull away. But don’t worry about it.”

The calls of the other students could be heard echoing down the hall, and Adrien tugged at her hand.

“We should probably get back to class.”

“…Yeah.” She smiled back. “We’d best hurry.”

If they were still holding hands as they walked back to class, that was nobody else’s business but their own.

(Even if Alya did badger her for details later on. It was in her shutterbug nature, and she adored her for it.)

 

* * *

 

“My Lady? Are you here?”

It had been a sudden call. Routine solo-patrol had been interrupted by Ladybug’s insistence that he come to the Eiffel Tower to meet her, giving very little details other than it was of the  _utmost_ urgency. Naturally, he had sprinted from the other side of the  _city_ to come to his Lady’s call, but found the bottom of the tower barely populated.

He rubbed the back of his neck, considering calling her. 

 _Maybe your little bug stood you up?_ Plagg’s teasing was running around his head, and he could barely restrain himself from clawing at his own head.

“Chat! Come up here!”

He blinked, glancing around. “Where are you?”

Seeing the familiar red and black-spotted yoyo descend in front of him, he grabbed it without a second thought. It pulled him up, past the faces that may have seen him, and up near the middle of the infrastructure.

As soon as he set foot on the railings, he saw Ladybug–flushed, grinning, with her arms behind her back as she clipped her yoyo back around her waist.

“Is something wrong?” He asked. “Did you detect something, or–”

“No, not this time.” He tried to look around at what she was looking for, only to be surprised as she reached out for a small picnic basket. “I just… I thought it would be nice if we met  _without_ all the constant battles. Just from time-to-time.” From those beautifully thick lashes, she peered at him shyly. “Is that alright?”

_She wanted to meet outside their duties._

“That’s… wonderful!” He scratched his head. “But… why? You’ve always wanted to keep our lives separate outside the fighting–which I respect. Why the sudden change?”

Ladybug sat on the railing and looked out at the city. “Because… I don’t think I’ve always treated you like you’re my best friend. Because you  _are,_ and I couldn’t do this without you. I hope you know that now.”

Something in his eyes began to sting. “I… I do, Ladybug. Thank you.”

“Good.” She patted the space down next to her. “Now, enough with all this emotional talk. After all, these crepes aren’t going to eat themselves, are they?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested in commissioning me for writing purposes, please visit http://unluckyfortunes.tumblr.com/commission for further details! ^_^


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